


One for Sorrow, Two for Joy

by Bright_Elen, misskatieleigh



Series: The Pilot and the Partisan [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M, POV Bodhi Rook, POV Bokan Rook, POV Cassian Andor, Pre-Slash, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 14:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11625474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/pseuds/Bright_Elen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/pseuds/misskatieleigh
Summary: Bodhi opened his eyes, stared into familiar brown ones, his mirror image just past the bars keeping him a prisoner.“You’re dead.” He had to force the words past his tongue, his heart splitting open.Bokan smiled, feral and strange. “Not yet, brother.”Bodhi clenched his hands into fists.“Don’t call me that. The brother I knew would never have let them torture me.”





	One for Sorrow, Two for Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rogueshadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/gifts).



> Inspired by [this post](http://semisweetshadow.tumblr.com/post/163433334073/alternate-bodhi-from-the-first-draft-of-the-script) by [rogueshadows](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/pseuds/rogueshadows). She also made a [gif set](http://semisweetshadow.tumblr.com/post/163494004503/bodhi-heard-bokan-speak-again-and-still-tried-not)  
> and a [photoset](http://semisweetshadow.tumblr.com/post/163536311918/its-a-hard-thing-to-feel-so-haunted-by-your-ownt).
> 
> Fan art by [clawsou](http://clawsou.com/post/163584475822/rook-twins-au-x-dedicated-to-semisweetshadow), [shima-spoon](http://shima-spoon.tumblr.com/post/163605736717/for-those-geniuses-semisweetshadow), and [canadian-girlfriend](http://canadian-girlfriend.tumblr.com/post/163542266627/rook-brothers-im-jumping-on-semisweetshadow).

Bodhi closed his eyes. This was a dream. That thing, that _monster_ was still in his head, dragging up long buried memories.

He bit his lip, drawing blood. The flood of copper in his mouth was too real to be a dream. He opened his eyes, stared into familiar brown ones, his mirror image just past the bars keeping him a prisoner.

“You’re dead.” He had to force the words past his tongue, his heart splitting open.

Bokan smiled, feral and strange. “Not yet, brother.”

Bodhi clenched his hands into fists.

“Don’t call me that. The brother I knew would never have let them torture me.”

Bokan drew his eyebrows together, tipping his head to one side. “We had to be sure you could be trusted.” He sounded so calm, it sent a chill down Bodhi’s spine. Bokan’s voice dipped down to a ragged whisper. “Don’t forget about that patch on your arm, dear one. Some sins are unforgivable.”

Raising his fist, Bodhi tried to get his temper in check. He felt like something had been shaken loose inside, and it was rattling around in his chest. “You think I wanted this? I had to do it, for Ammi! Or have you forgotten your own mother? I’m trying to do the right thing now, doesn’t that count for anything?!”

Bokan stood, tapping against the bars as if to remind Bodhi how trapped he was.

“The only thing you’ve done is bring the Empire down on our heads. I suggest you find your faith before the Force takes you.”

* * *

Things were not going well for Cassian Andor. Ever since Draven had briefed him on this mission, he’d had a sneaking suspicion that it was going to end badly, and nothing since then had proven otherwise. The worst part was that he had no idea where Jyn was, and no way of knowing if she’d sell him down the river to get herself out of this mess.

Besides that, they’d managed to drag a couple of Guardian’s along on their farce of a mission. He wasn’t sure how much more collateral damage he could willingly rack up before something snapped.

The guards across from their cell were pretending to be distracted, seemingly absorbed in their card game, but every time he moved someone's fingers twitched toward a blaster. One of them in particular, a slight-looking man with a shaved head and a few scars cutting across his face, was splitting his attention between their cell and the one directly beside them.

One of the Guardians apparently noticed this as well, pushing off from where he was leaning against the wall to investigate.

“Who’s in the next cell?”

What he said next seemed like it might be the only silver lining on this storm cloud of a day.

“It’s an Imperial pilot!” He reached through the bars, trying to catch the pilot and pull him closer. “I’ll kill him.”

Cassian jerked his head up, storming across the small cell to push the agitated man out of the way.

“Don’t - We need him!” Cassian hissed.

He crouched down to peer into the dark cell. A man was sitting on the floor, his head hanging down and his long hair in a disheveled sort of ponytail, flight goggles perched on top. He was muttering to himself softly. Cassian wondered if he was praying or losing his mind.

“Are you the pilot?” he whispered, desperately trying to avoid the attention of the guards.

The man didn’t look up, so he tried again. “Galen Erso, do you know that name?”

Finally, the man pulled his head up, turning to look at Cassian with wide eyes and tear streaked cheeks. The corner of his mouth turned up; a smile or a tic, Cassian couldn’t tell.

“I’m the pilot. I brought the message.” The pilot blinked slowly, his eyes eventually focusing on Cassian’s face.

Their eyes met. Cassian twisted his head back toward the guard. That same one was still watching them, though he had given up on pretending now.

They had the same face.

Apparently, this day was going to continue to give him a headache.

* * *

Everything was shaking. Cassian didn’t want to believe that the weapon was finished- was _there_ \- and so he focused on the things he knew he could do something about: watch the guards flee. Open the door. Call Kay. Make sure the Guardians got the pilot.

He found Jyn on her knees, pulled her out of her fugue, and ran with the others out into incomprehensible destruction. The U-wing was there, just a short sprint from the entrance, and the Guardians were already making for it. Jyn found her momentum and rocketed off after them, leaving Cassian to deal with the pilot standing next to his Partisan brother, both staring at the earth obscuring the sky.

He didn’t need both of them, but he had a feeling they needed each other, so he elbowed his way between them, linked both arms in theirs, and started hauling them forward.

* * *

The ground was the sky.

The ground was the sky and his brother was alive, everything Bodhi ever knew twisted inside out like the holy city somehow both above and below them. At the front of the ship, a droid was arguing with the man that had dragged him and Bokan onboard, resolving itself when that man shoved the hyperspace lever forward with a terse comment.

There’s no way he did the calculations that fast.

_We’re all going to die, smashed into a million pieces as we slam through a planet halfway across the galaxy._

Bodhi wondered if that would hurt more than being disintegrated by that glowing green death.

He dragged his attention back to his companions, a fresh argument brewing about the message he’d risked everything to deliver.

“My father…”

Bodhi looked up. “You’re Galen’s daughter? I’m Bodhi. Bodhi Rook? I... I brought the message.” His eyes lost focus, a feeling like a thousand pounds of rock sitting on his chest. “I guess I was too late.”

The woman - Jyn, he remembered Galen calling her - started to object, arguing that she’d seen the message, she knew what they had to do. That it wasn’t too late.

One of the men, a Jedhan carrying a heavy looking canon, snorted and glanced at his companion. “Seems pretty late to me.”

Leaning against the far wall of the shuttle, Bokan sneered. “Enough blood on your hands yet, Bodhi?”

Growing up in an occupied city had whittled away at some part of Bodhi, his tolerance or his forgiveness, maybe. Then the years of working for the occupier had whittled it down further, his guilt and his desperation and rage had cut it down, leaving something not much more sturdy than a matchstick.

Bokan’s words snapped it easily, and it didn’t matter that Bodhi wasn’t a violent man. He threw himself across the transport, fist raised, and slammed it into his brother’s face. Bokan either hadn’t expected it or wasn’t doing very well, because he wound up laid out on his back. He recovered fast, though, swept his legs out to catch Bodhi’s, and then they were hitting each other on the deck.

“Grab the Partisan, I’ll get the pilot!” someone said, and then Bodhi was being dragged backward by hands at his shoulders. The blind Guardian had him in a lock, and the guy with the huge gun was holding Bokan back.

It didn’t take the fight out of Bodhi, just redirected it.

“ _My_ hands?!” he shouted, and some part of him marveled that he even had enough left to do that. “You don’t much care who you shoot, as long as there’s a dead Imp in it for you! All you do is terrorize civilians to annoy the ‘troopers, who just come back and shoot more of us anyway!” He took a ragged breath. “We thought you were dead! We both mourned you, sang the songs, made the offerings! And you were with them the whole time! You weren’t there when she got sick. You didn’t have to watch our mother dying!”

Another breath, and he was pretty sure there were tears in his eyes, but he didn’t care. Bokan was still glaring death at him.

“You didn’t have to make yourself sick of your own reflection to make sure it was the cancer that took her and not starvation! You just left!“

Chest heaving, Bodhi cursed Bokan.

Bokan opened his mouth, ready to retort, but then they all felt the familiar half-lurch of coming out of hyperspace.

“Against all odds - and I do mean all of them,” the droid said, “we appear not to be dead.”

* * *

Cassian scrubbed at his face with both hands. Why did he always end up in situations like this? K-2 was watching him, somehow holding back commentary on the brothers still bristling angrily at each other despite the secure hold each of the Guardians held them in. Thank the Force for small mercies.

He took a breath. Looked out the viewport at the calmness of space. Took another breath. _Fuck._

Cassian turned back to the sorry excuse for a crew he had somehow assembled. A blind man that took out stormtroopers like they were standing still. A Guardian that scoffed at the Force and carried a weapon meant to be mounted on a tank. A girl barely out of her teens that wavered between cold indifference and righteous indignation. Two men that stood on opposite sides of this blasted war, but shared the same face and the same fiery spark of anger at the other.

At least he knew what to expect from K-2.

“All right, listen. I’ve got to call into the Alliance base, update them on the situation.” He clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and spoke again, directing his question at the (hopefully former) Imperial pilot. “You’re sure Erso is on Eadu, right?”

He could only hope that this wasn’t some sort of convoluted trap. The attack on Jedha didn’t make sense if it was, though he’d run across martyrs before.

The pilot nodded, blood dripping from his split lip. He spat out his next words, still caught up in the fight from before.

“Yes! He never leaves, they don’t let him leave.” Then he seemed to lose some confidence, his gaze drifting toward Jyn, who’d been watching the whole conflict with wide eyes. “That’s where he was at least. I didn’t think the weapon was ready yet either, so who knows what else I’m wrong about.”

The Partisan huffed. “First you know, then you don’t know. Have you figured out what side you’re on yet? Or will you change your mind on that as well?”

The pilot struggled against the blind Guardian’s hold. “I defected! What more do you want from me? Should I slit my wrists and beg your forgiveness? You didn’t offer us the same courtesy, you just vanished into the sand.”

The Partisan opened his mouth to speak but Cassian cut him off. “We don’t have time for this! Right now, we’re all on the same side. You want to cut each other to pieces later, be my guest. For now, I’m calling in to base.”

He turned toward the radio, leaving stunned silence in his wake.

Thank the Force for small mercies indeed.

* * *

K-2 was not having a good day. No one was, of course, and he’d had plenty of other bad days, but this one?

Jyn Erso hadn’t tried to shoot Cassian yet, so Kay was glad to be wrong on that count, but that positive development was far eclipsed by the Empire’s new weapon. Jyn Erso, K-2 could handle.

Oh, and there was a Partisan sneering in the back while everyone useful went about their business.

“If Cassian comes back, we’re leaving without them.”

“Fine with me.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. I just like talking.” K-2 continued his work.

“Hmm,” Bokan mused. “Is your sub-motivator rewired through your induction matrix?”

“What?” K-2 stopped, looked at Bokan. His grin was wide, and sharp, and his eyes made K-2 think of wild animals. “How did you know that?”

Bokan shrugged. “It’s one of the easier ways to disrupt obedience programming, and it also has the side effect of never being able to shut up.”

“Oh.” K-2 studied the engineer, who just stared right back. Bokan was definitely someone K-2 wasn’t going to allow near him while in sleep mode.

After sending the appropriate messages, K-2 went to where the cargo crates were stored. He opened one and dropped it at Bokan’s feet.

“Pack up the rations and medical supplies. Did you really let your mother and brother think you were dead?“

Bokan’s eyes narrowed but he started grabbing supplies and stuffing them in the crate.

“I couldn’t exactly communicate with anyone for the first few years,” he said, and it was angry, but also…regretful? Maybe he valued his familial bonds after all. “And after that, it seemed almost worse to come back from the dead.”

K-2 stacked ‘pads and dataspikes and other sensitive miscellany in his crate. He simulated his own reactions if he believed Cassian dead, and then years later, returned.

He didn’t have to simulate Bodhi’s reaction to finding Bokan alive.

“Your calculations were incorrect,” K-2 said.

Bokan threw the last ration bar into his crate. His hands were shaking, and he moved to the farthest corner from K-2, glaring at the bulkhead opposite.

He didn’t say anything else. People tended to do that when K-2 pointed out unpleasant truths.

* * *

Bodhi stumbled up the open ramp of the damaged U-wing, brushing halfheartedly at the wet hair hanging in his face. Bokan was tucked into one corner of the ship, his face pinched and angry. K-2 had no expression. Droids tended not to, though they often made up for it in personality.

“You are not Cassian.”

Bodhi huffed out a self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry to disappoint you, Kay.”

He looked around at the crates of supplies, already packed up and waiting. “We need to get a new ship. There’s no way this thing’s going to fly again without a lot of parts we don’t have.”

Bokan scoffed. “It’s time we’re lacking. This place is about to turn into a warzone.” The whine of an X-Wing’s engines cut through the drumming of the rain on the roof of the ship. “Here they come.”

Bodhi stared at his brother. He was so tired of being angry. And he was starting to think that this had turned into a suicide mission.

“Fuck. Okay, we can get to the shuttle hangar if we cut through this ravine. If we’re lucky, they’ll be too distracted to worry about two guys and a droid stealing a ship.”

Bodhi would have sworn he saw a smile cross Bokan’s face, but it disappeared into the shadows. In the distance, something exploded.

K-2 looked at both of them and started walking toward the door. “If we’re going, we need to go now.”

* * *

Bodhi stumbled, pushing back the rain hat that kept falling into his face. He was walking too slow and he knew it, but he was running out of adrenaline as fast as they were running out of time.

K-2′s voice crackled over the sound of the rain. “I could carry you.”

Bodhi grimaced, wavered and caught himself from falling. “No.”

K-2 stepped toward him with purpose. “You are moving too slowly. I could carry you. You would not have to choose.”

Bodhi stopped, looking up into Kay’s impassive oculars. “No. Listen, I need you to do what I say. Trust me.”

K-2 regarded him carefully, unfazed by the rain pouring over his metal frame. “I have no specific reason to trust you, Bodhi Rook. You have shown yourself to be volatile and you are clearly under duress.”

Bodhi clenched his fist, then reached under the rain poncho that Cassian had given him, dragging it up to reveal the Imperial patch underneath. “Do you see this? This is why you trust me. We’re both defectors in a way. Cassian reprogrammed you? Well maybe Galen reprogrammed me. In any case, we’re on the same side now, and I need you to do what I say or we’re never getting inside that hangar.”

K-2 appeared to consider for a moment, then he shrugged. “I see your point. Lead on.”

Beside him, Bokan stiffened and held his breath, then pushed forward, dragging Bodhi’s arm up over his shoulder. “Let’s get you to the hangar then. I, for one, would like to die somewhere a little more dry than this Force-forsaken place.”

Bodhi leaned his weight into his brother and let him set the pace. It was a strangely familiar feeling and added a whole new sort of ache to his battered body.

* * *

Bodhi watched as Cassian came up over a ridge of rock, half dragging Jyn in his wake. Behind them, a row of stormtroopers knelt and took aim. He maneuvered the shuttle toward them, forcing back the thought of faces behind those cold white masks. He fired.

K-2 pulled the lever to lower the shuttle’s ramp. “Congratulations, you’re a rebel now.”

As if Bodhi hadn’t been one from the moment he left Eadu with the message.

Bokan placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. When Bodhi glanced over his shoulder, Bokan nodded at him once, sharply. Maybe he approved, Bodhi wasn't sure.

He’d been wrong before.

He let out a held breath and closed the ramp, turning the shuttle away from the explosions that were currently destroying all that was left of Eadu station.

“Let’s get out of here.”

K-2 entered the hyperspace coordinates. “Indeed.”

* * *

NiJedha was dead.

Galen was dead.

Bokan was alive. So were the Guardians, the Rebels, Galen’s daughter, and Bodhi. He felt half-dead with exhaustion and dehydration, his mind a bleeding mess; the Alliance might not accept his defection and execute him, but for the time being, however guilty he felt about it, Bodhi was alive.

His home was dead. Jyn’s father was dead.

Jyn tore into Cassian, clawed at him until she hit a nerve, didn’t flinch as he growled in her face. Of course she was furious. Bodhi was still furious with Bokan for their mother’s death, so he could hardly blame Jyn for her attack.

But he didn’t quite agree, either. In the coldest part of himself, Bodhi knew that killing Galen made strategic sense. He knew that war forced terrible choices. He knew Cassian had very much not wanted to kill Galen.

Even though it didn’t make a difference to Jyn, it did to Bodhi. He’d spent too long working for people who killed as easy as breathing.

“Anybody else?”

Cassian’s pointed question was obviously supposed to be rhetorical, so of course Bokan answered it.

“Yeah. You should have pulled the trigger. Gererra was right about the Alliance.”

Bodhi tensed, Jyn whirled around, and the Guardians moved to keep her and Bokan separate.

Cassian turned to face the Partisan very slowly. “Right about what?” he said, voice low, tightly controlled.

“That you’re too squeamish to do what’s necessary to win.”

Instead of punching or yelling at Bokan, Cassian laughed, once, desolate.

Bokan frowned. “What, you’re too good to take the likes of me seriously?”

“Shut up, Bokan,” Bodhi snapped. “It ended how it ended. Arguing won’t change it.”

Bokan opened his mouth again, but Bodhi wasn’t finished. “Arguing won’t change it, and these people are the best chance anyone has to stop the Death Star. If you want to take your rifle and your bloodthirst somewhere else, fine, but right now, shut up.”

Bokan reeled back, eyes wide, mouth pressed tightly shut. Then he smile wryly, shook his head, and turned to sit against the bulkhead. “You’re awfully quick to back up the people who might shoot you.”

Bodhi sighed and tried to squeeze some more water out of his hair. _If they did, I’d deserve it._ “At least they probably won’t torture me.”

Cassian turned towards him, looking mostly angry and exhausted but also a little bit disturbed. “Bodhi, more than a third of the Alliance is made up of defectors,” he said.

“Thirty-five point eight percent,” K-2SO said from the cockpit.

The Captain pinched the bridge of his nose. “The point is, we don’t torture people and we can’t afford to turn defectors away.” He laid a hand on Bodhi’s shoulder. “You’ll have a place with us, Bodhi.”

Bodhi looked up at him with the barest hint of a smile. “Well, thank you for saying so, anyway.”

“You’ve got no reason to believe him,” Bokan said.

Bodhi ignored his brother. Bokan was right, but for some reason, Bodhi trusted Cassian at least that far.

Cassian threw a sharp glance at Bokan, his mouth tense and ready to argue, but he must have decided that Bodhi had the right idea. Instead, he held out a datapad.

“The comm frequencies are in here,” Cassian said. “Make sure they know we’re coming in on a stolen ship.”

Surprised that Cassian apparently trusted him back, Bodhi nodded, scrubbed a hand across his face, and got to work.

* * *

After the sparring match between the Alliance spy and the Imperial’s daughter, the mood on the ship had been tense. Bokan found himself a corner to disappear into. He’d managed to burn through all of Bodhi’s good will in one sentence, his devotion to Saw’s way of things spilling out unchecked. It was a mistake, but he’d never had Bodhi’s knack toward silence. At least he knew where the spy stood. He’d have to find his way up the chain to the one that had ordered the kill.

Someone knew how to make the hard choices, even if Andor wouldn’t follow them.

Bodhi had set himself to work at the radio with an ease that would have made him proud if he didn’t think too hard about where Bodhi learned those skills. The Guardians had retreated to another corner, capturing the girl in their wake. The big one found a med kit somewhere, forcing her to sit while he checked her over for injuries.

Bokan had made himself invisible. He was good at that, at least.

Bokan watched silently as Andor and the droid brought the shuttle down on the tarmac. Through the viewport he could see an abandoned temple, evidence of modern modifications visible in patches, and spilling out across the open space was what might be half the Alliance fleet.

Saw would have had words about that, resources left out under the open sky. Saw was dead though, so maybe his words didn’t mean so much anymore.

Bokan waited as the shuttle’s ramp lurched open. The spy would have to report in, so he was the one to follow. The others, well he wasn’t sure yet what they’d do. He didn’t much care about anyone except Bodhi.

And that droid, he might be trouble, but Bokan knew about seven ways to disable him. If he could get his hands on a vibro-blade.

Luck and the Force seemed to be smiling down on him as the droid and the Captain exited first, striding purposefully across the tarmac. A harried-looking man in a jumpsuit poked his head into the shuttle, gesturing for the rest of them to follow. Bokan held back, made sure that he was the last off the ship. He tempered his pace, allowing the group to put some distance between them. Just enough space that when they walked into the cover of the temple, eyes still adjusting from daylight to artificial, his feet carried him around a corner while theirs went in a straight line. He waited a beat, shucked his soaked jacket on top of a crate in the hallway, and walked back out into the sun.

He found his stride then, weaving among the rebels like he belonged here. He knew which way Andor had gone.

If he’d been paying attention, he would have noticed Bodhi trailing behind him. He’d forgotten that they were both good at becoming invisible.

Bokan heard the General before he saw him. It brought a smile to his face, to hear the dressing down the Captain was getting, words like ‘insubordination’ and ‘jeopardizing the cause’. He even accused Andor of letting his feelings for the girl cloud his judgement. Bokan snorted at that. He’d seen the way Andor’s hackles had raised when the girl had compared him to a ‘trooper. They might have escalated into some sort of pseudo hate sex given the right set of circumstances, but it wouldn’t have forced his hand with her father. No, something else had swayed the sniper rifle on that ridge and Bokan knew just the pair of puppy eyes that had done it.

People had always wanted to please Bodhi. He didn’t understand why his face didn’t engender the same response.

Bokan waited until the shouting quieted, raising a fist to knock on the door separating him from his only hope for sense in this rebellion. A hand appeared, wrapping quick fingers around his wrist at the last moment, twisting him around with a sharp jerk.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bodhi hissed, his mouth an angry line.

Bokan jerked his wrist back, throwing Bodhi off balance. He hadn’t recovered from his days locked in Saw’s cage yet, though he was putting up a brave front.

“I’m going to talk to the only person around here with any sense!” he hissed back, pressing forward into Bodhi’s face. “You may need to throw yourself at their mercy, but I’ve been fighting for the same freedom as they are for too many years. I have useful skills, ones that could make me money under the right circumstances. They’d do well to make sure that I’m included in their plans.” Bokan shrugged. “Maybe your boyfriend will give you a goodbye kiss if you ask him nicely. ‘Course, he might he headed for the firing squad as well.”

Bodhi looked shocked, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Behind him, someone coughed.

“We do not execute defectors in the Alliance. Nor do we execute officers for making field decisions.”

Bokan turned and looked up at the face of a man with sandy brown hair and striking blue eyes. He felt his shoulders straighten immediately, something about the way the man held himself spoke to authority. Bokan swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but Andor pushed past him, tugging on Bodhi’s arm.

“Come on, they’re organizing a meeting of the Council. I think you should be there.”

No one stopped to make sure Bokan followed. He felt a weight settle on his chest. He frowned and nudged the feeling aside, falling into step behind his brother and Andor. Maybe he could find some sense at this meeting.

There was a chance anyway.

* * *

Bodhi hated speaking to rooms full of people. So many eyes on him made him feel all of his flaws and then some. He tended to alternate between stuttering and talking a mile a minute. Feeling sick was normal, though thankfully he’d never vomited on anyone.

He had a horrible feeling that he might break that streak in the Alliance Council meeting.

After the call to order, general briefing, and Cassian’s rundown of the situation, the meeting involved the Council asking Bodhi a lot of probing questions. The ones who didn’t believe him made it abundantly clear what they thought of him. Everyone else listened with varying degrees of troubled expressions.

Bodhi was sweating through his Imperial flight suit. He’d hated it for a long time now, but never so intensely.

Finally, the cross-examination moved to Jyn, and Bodhi sagged in relief even as he felt deep sympathy. He glanced around and found that Cassian had slipped out at some point. Bokan was standing where he’d started, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set, giving narrow-eyed looks of disapproval to the balking Senators.

Bodhi wished, as he’d done quite often when they were kids, that he could be as confrontational as Bokan.

It didn’t matter, in the end. Mothma apologized to those who wanted to fight. The meeting was officially over.

Jyn stormed out.

Bokan raised his voice. “No one can hide from this,” he said, fixing the most vocal opponents with his unnerving stare. “Those of you who try deserve to live in the Death Star’s shadow.”

The senators frowned, murmured among themselves, and shied away from Bokan.

Bodhi changed course so that he could fall into step next to him. Bokan gave him a measuring look, but said nothing, so neither did Bodhi.

They found Jyn and the Guardians in the hangar.

“She wants to fight,” the blind one said.

“So do I,” Bodhi said. “We all do.”

Bokan grinned at him and gripped his shoulder. “Yeah. All of us.”

It was going to be dangerous - was maybe even a suicide mission. Bodhi didn’t want to lose his brother so soon after finding him again. He almost wanted to beg him to stay behind on Yavin IV, do engineering for the Alliance.

But even before Saw took him, no one had been able to keep Bokan out of a fight.

Jyn looked pleasantly surprised to have their support. Bodhi had to remind himself that she didn’t know any of them, that he shouldn’t be offended. Then she remarked on how few they were, and Baze Malbus pointed out the group of Rebels approaching.

Cassian led them, explained why they were all going to Scarif, orders or not. He was speaking to Jyn, but Bodhi was close enough to see the fire in his eyes, hear the conviction in his voice.

Bodhi didn’t think he’d ever seen someone be that passionate about doing the right thing, and it was a little shocking how much he found himself drawn to it.

 _Shit._ Bokan had been right about that, too. Bodhi looked away, counted the group, calculated how many cubic meters of gear they might bring. This was the absolute worst time for attraction. _Well done, Bodhi._

“Grab anything that’s not nailed down,” Cassian finished, and the group broke.

Bodhi didn’t go just yet. He studied his brother’s face, wondering if it was the last time he’d be able to really see him. The scar on his forehead was a few years old, probably. New to Bodhi.

“I wish we had more time,” he said.

Bokan smiled, not one of his feral grins or arrogant smirks, but something softer. “So do I. But it’s good to be proud of you again, even for a little while.”

A lump formed in Bodhi’s throat, and he pulled Bokan into a hug. “Yeah, I missed you, too.”

* * *

The air burned his lungs.

Bodhi threw his arm up to shield his face, colliding with the solid weight of a body somehow caught between him and the explosion. He hit the wall of the shuttle, his head clanging against metal with a sharp crack. It hurt too much to be a dream. He prayed that this wasn’t the afterlife, pain and smoke and burning flesh for eternity.

“No time for praying now, Bodhi.”

It was Bokan. Bodhi was starting to think his brother had nine lives, somehow still alive though he’d walked out onto that beach with the other soldiers. Bodhi forced his eyes open, hands wound in the fabric of Bokan’s shirt. Bokan grinned, then hissed as it twisted the burnt skin on his face. His body slumped against Bodhi, all pretense of hardness falling away to open fear in his eyes.

“Go on, brother. Might be able to save your Captain yet, if you hurry.”

 _The jump to Scarif had been eerily silent. Men and gear tucked close together in the cargo hold, any words between them caught in their throats. Jyn had stared out the viewport, at the lines of stars speeding past_ . _Bodhi didn’t know her well enough to come up with the right words of comfort. He couldn’t offer her Galen back, not as the man she needed him to have been at least. He’d told K-2 that Galen had reprogrammed him, an appropriate enough word for how he felt - his own thoughts twisted around someone else’s directives. That wouldn’t matter to Jyn, not until she’d found her revenge._

_Cassian hadn’t offered conversation either, though his gaze had drifted to Bodhi enough times that it must have been intentional. Bodhi had only allowed himself to look back once, capturing only partial details to commit to his memory: a clenched jaw, a determined mouth. Sad eyes that softened when Cassian caught him looking. Bodhi had dragged his eyes back to the display, ignoring K-2’s unwavering gaze. They had arrived._

Bodhi pushed Bokan off of him as gently as possible. He could see the wreckage outside the shuttle from where Bokan had apparently thrown the grenade. Compassion made him want to linger, find a med kit and sort out Bokan’s crumbling edges. For now he had to content himself with the rise and fall of his brother’s chest. There might still be a chance, if the Force saw fit to give him another miracle.  Bodhi pulled himself to his feet and climbed up into the cockpit. He closed the ramp and prayed, one more, one more.

_Something like hope had bloomed in Bodhi’s chest, the planet’s shield retracting to allow them through. He’d turned and caught the tail end of Cassian’s smile. Stars, he hoped he’d get a chance to see that again._

_He’d missed Jyn’s speech, only climbing down from the cockpit in time to ask after his place in the mission. ‘_ You’re our only way out of here.’ _A last chance to make amends. He could work with that._

Bodhi kept the shuttle as low to the beach as he dared, scanning for survivors. It was hard to tell the difference between the ‘troopers and the rebels from this far away, and wasn’t that a metaphor for this war that he wasn’t prepared to deal with right then. How many times would he have been on the wrong side against Cassian and the others? How many times would Bokan have turned a blaster on him?

None of that mattered in the face of the Death Star turning from shadow to reality in the sky.

In the distance, he saw movement on the beach. Bodhi pushed the shuttle forward, ignoring the flash of green on the horizon.

Bodhi cursed, hovering the shuttle over the sand. They were running out of time, just like before, and he didn’t think they’d get lucky enough to skip hyperspace calculations twice.

Amazingly, Bokan was still breathing, his eyes cracking open to peer at Bodhi when he came clamoring back down the ladder. The ramp stuttered open and Bodhi’s breath caught in his throat until finally he could see Cassian and Jyn huddled together, eyes closed against the approaching horizon.

Bodhi thought of his mother, of Jyn’s mother and Galen, of everyone on Jedha that had never known their end was coming. He filled his lungs and screamed. Cassian’s head jerked up, something wild in his eyes. Bodhi leaned out the open ramp, holding his hand out to Cassian.

He borrowed some of Bokan’s nine lives and dragged Cassian and Jyn on board. Then, for one last time, Bodhi pretended to be an Imperial, blending in with the riot of ships trying to escape the burning atmosphere.

It was over.

* * *

Cassian was fighting. When he couldn’t avoid thinking about it, he knew he always would be. Some Rebels talked about the war like it was temporary. They talked about where they were from, who they’d been before.

For Cassian, there was no before. Everything was the war: the past, present, what little future awaited.

Himself outside and inside. He gained and lost the knowledge that he was unconscious many times, drifting in and out of battles and missions.

He was running across the surf, dodging blaster bolts, Jyn ahead of him, the plans in her hands.

Now he was winding through narrow streets, the prickle of eyes on his back, trying to get to the rendezvous point. Watching Tivik fall to the ground. Stuffing the horror down so he could escape, bring the intel back to the Alliance.

Now he was soaked up on the ridge, the man in white in his crosshairs, but his rifle was jammed. He couldn’t take the shot. The cloaked officer made a gesture, and the death troopers shot Draven and Mothma and Bodhi. A TIE screamed overhead and shot Cassian.

Now he was dragging himself into an elevator, spine and ribs barely holding together. Everything hurt.

Nothing hurt. He was floating. Maybe it was bacta?

He opened his eyes, and it was too bright, but before he closed them again he saw smears of color, a tube running to the mask over his face. Yeah, bacta.

_Cassian was too injured to do anything but stare at Jyn on the elevator ride down, reassuring himself that he hadn’t failed her, that he’d managed to help at least one person. Hoping that the plans had gotten through. Holding the pain at bay. He didn’t know what she was thinking or feeling, except maybe that she was glad he was still alive too._

_He didn’t let himself think about who else was still alive._

_When they got to the ground level, Jyn wound up half-carrying Cassian to the beach.  It only hurt his pride a little, and he was glad for the companionship._

_The ocean was erupting. They were going to die after all._

_That was all right._

_Cassian embraced Jyn, wishing she was somewhere safe but also glad that he wasn’t going to die alone. It was enough._

_He’d done enough._

_He didn’t have time for another thought before someone was shouting his name. He looked up, and there was Bodhi, burned at the edges but alive and whole, and Cassian’s heart stuttered._

Leave me, _he thought._ Get out, save yourselves, don’t waste time on me.

_He’d rather have stayed there, but Jyn was pulling at him, and together they made it to the shuttle, and Bodhi’s hands on him were a consolation, at least, before he collapsed to the floor and passed out._

* * *

When Cassian gained consciousness again, he was dry and in a bed.

He was alive. That was a surprise.

He should have been grateful, maybe, but mostly he felt tired. Mostly, he wished he could have traded with someone else. Someone with a before and an after.

Closing his eyes, he gave himself some time for a little self-pity.

Then he sighed, wincing at the pain in his ribs, and decided that if they’d gone to the trouble to keep him alive, he should do his best to make it worth their while.

* * *

He opened his eyes again. The infirmary was quiet and dimly-lit, only a single nurse and the med-droids making the rounds. The row of beds was only about half-occupied, and that sent a pang though Cassian. Most of them hadn’t made it off of Scarif, then.

Jyn was a few beds down the row, leg elevated, a mildly troubled expression on her sleeping face. A few others he didn’t recognize, maybe new recruits injured in some other fight, maybe friends unidentifiable under bandages and wounds.

He started to turn his head to look the other way. His spine felt strange, numb. He wondered just how bad the injury was, and was relieved to be able to move his arms and legs when he tried.

There were two occupied beds to Cassian’s left. He wasn’t sure about the extent of their injuries, but both Rooks were there.

It lifted something from Cassian to know that Bodhi had made it and that he wouldn’t be mourning his brother again.

Leaning back, Cassian fell asleep again.

* * *

He woke again to chaos, people rushing around, and he couldn’t see Jyn or Bodhi. He was being transferred to a gurney, brought outside onto a transport. For the evacuation they strapped him to a backboard and strapped that to a rack specially designed for it. He felt like a crate being put on a shelf.

“Andor?” came a rough voice from somewhere behind him.

“Is that Bokan Rook?” he asked. He hated not being able to see what was going on.

“Yeah.”

Cassian grunted in affirmation. “I assume we’ve been compromised?”

“Nobody’s told me anything,” Bokan said, “but I think the Death Star finding us would indicate that.”

Cassian’s chest clenched. “They found us? How far out are they? How long do we have?”

“Relax, Captain,” Bokan chuckled, then coughed, a sound that made Cassian wince in sympathy. “Fuck. Anyway, the Empire knows where we are, yeah, but apparently we got the plans out. Some kid used them to blow the whole thing.”

Cassian blinked at the ceiling above him, trying to absorb the idea. “It worked?”

He heard the sounds of Bokan shifting. “Yeah! They even showed us a holo of it. You were still in the tank, I think.”

Cassian...Cassian was smiling. “That’s. That’s good.” He wasn’t really sure if he was processing it. “Thank you for your help with Scarif.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Bokan answered quickly.

“For your brother?” Cassian asked.

Rook didn't answer for a moment.

“It had to be done."

“Yeah,” Cassian agreed.

* * *

* * *

Bodhi sat up with a start, gasping for breath. He looked to his left, finding Bokan’s bandage wrapped face. He looked to his right, finding Cassian. In a chair facing the foot of his bed sat Jyn Erso, her reconstructed knee still immobilized in a brace. Her mouth turned up at the edge, a mockery of a smile.

“All hands still accounted for.”

Bodhi reached his hands up, skimming across the edge of the bacta patch covering the burn on his neck and threading his fingers back into his hair. A nurse had trimmed back the most damaged parts a few days ago, so he was able to pull the tangles free. He hadn’t looked in a mirror yet to see how lopsided the cut was. It was short enough that he couldn’t pull it back in a hair tie at least, and it constantly hung in his eyes.

For the hundredth time he considered shaving it off and discarded the idea.

Bodhi looked back at Jyn. She sat there most of the day, watching them sleep and wake up in intervals, though it didn’t seem to bring her any comfort. Bodhi swung his feet off the side of the bed and slipped to the floor, padding on socked feet over to Bokan’s bedside.

Jyn’s voice cracked. “He tried to ask about you, last time he woke up. Nurse said his lungs aren’t healed yet. After a few minutes they sedated him, seemed like he was going to hurt himself to get to you.”

Bodhi laid his hand gently over Bokan’s, one of the few places not covered by bandages. “I’m here. I’m right here.” It was easier to talk to him like this, when they couldn’t pick at each other’s rough edges.

Jyn looked the other way, feigning privacy.

* * *

“At least they’ll be able to tell us apart now.”

Not exactly the first words Bodhi thought he would hear from Bokan after everything they’d been through in the past week, but he was glad for them all the same.

“Might save you from the bounty on my head, for whatever that’s worth.”

Bokan had grinned at that, then coughed, a terrible hacking thing that brought a nurse across the room at a brisk pace. He injected Bokan with something, pressing an oxygen mask to Bokan’s face with a grimace. Eventually the coughing eased and Bokan let the mask drop to his chest.

Bodhi stepped closer, hesitating before cupping his hand around the undamaged side of his brother’s face. “At least say goodbye this time, if you’re planning to leave.” He wanted to say more, but that was the essence at least. He wanted so much for there to just be peace between them. “Please.”

* * *

The Jedi came back. Bodhi never thought he’d see the day, never thought that their hope and sacrifice would get laid on the shoulders of a boy younger than him, dragged into the fight from the middle of nowhere.

The will of the Force, and all that jazz.

The Jedi came, and a princess too, towing the Death Star in their wake like some kind of cruel joke. Bodhi ducked out of the medbay, pushing through the scramble of pilots and out into the open air. _How many times_?

One more, apparently.

Bodhi cringed back from the explosion, echoes of heat and smoke, Bokan’s weight on his chest. He stumbled, barely catching himself on an empty crate. Around him, the rebels cheered, but Bodhi only had room for tears. _Maybe I wasn’t too late after all_.

* * *

Two days later, they evacuated the base. They wouldn’t let him stay with Bokan, left him watching helpless as his brother was strapped down for transport along with Cassian. He thought he heard Cassian’s voice for a moment, but then he was being pushed toward another ship, his name checked off a list by a nameless woman.

Jyn sat across from him on a bench filled with other injured rebels, damaged but not critical. They’d taken her brace off the day before, but she still had a set of crutches tucked close to her side. She didn’t seem worried by their sudden race off of Yavin. Maybe she was used to it, they seemed to have to leave in a hurry quite often.

Bodhi suspected it was something else. He wondered how long she’d stay once she could walk freely again. He wondered how long before someone asked him to leave as well.

Bodhi leaned back against the hull of the ship and closed his eyes. He had to figure out how to get back to his brother, and to Cassian. There was still some unfinished business there.

* * *

When the researchers on Eadu had needed special materials and he’d been on hand, Bodhi had hauled shipments from Imperial armadas. It had involved navigating clusters of ships, flying amid the cruisers or carriers or, one memorable time, a Star Destroyer. The uniformity and number of ships had always been oppressive; in the earlier days, they’d ground his spirit down even below the depths it typically occupied.

Near the end, when he’d been thinking about defecting, an Imperial fleet made Bodhi feel terror. Just like the Empire wanted.

The Alliance fleet was nothing like that. When the ship carrying Jyn and him jumped to the rendezvous point, he was greeted with the sight of dozens of ships, maybe more than a hundred: Mon Calamari cruisers, Corellian corvettes, X-wings and Y-wings, civilian ships. Every freighter Bodhi picked out from the blanket of stars was from a different manufacturer and a different decade. Most of the ships were old, worn, or damaged; a few had visibly slapdash paint jobs; and he was fairly sure at least one was actually pieces of two entirely different ships welded together.

“Kind of a mess, isn’t it,” Jyn said. She was leaning over Bodhi’s shoulder to look out the viewport. “It’s like the Council meeting in ship form.”

Bodhi laughed and shook his head. “It’s beautiful.”

* * *

Shepherding the evacuees onto Home One, assigning them quarters based on rank and injury level, and then making sure everyone knew where the mess and refreshers were took most of the afternoon. Bodhi and Jyn not being officially part of the Alliance was less of a problem than he’d feared, but apparently people just showing up and pitching in wasn’t unusual enough to warrant special consideration. They were told to wait a day or two until a recruiter had a chance to talk to them.

Leg propped up on her new bunk, Jyn sighed. “Great. Now we’re baggage.”

Bodhi smiled. “Ambulatory baggage.”

That earned him half a smile. “That’s something, I guess. Are you going to look for your brother?”

It had only been on his mind since the evac began.

“Yeah. Wanna come?”

“No, but I’ll come visit once you know where they are.” Jyn pulled out a datapad and started to scroll through reading material. Bodhi didn’t know when she’d gotten it, but it was almost certainly stolen.

“I’ll tell them you said hello.”

Jyn waved without looking up. Bodhi left.

It didn’t take him long to decide that his best bet would be to go to the mess and ask someone there how to get to the infirmary. He could only assume that Bokan and Cassian were on Home One; it was by far the biggest ship and most likely had the only medical center worth the title.

It wasn’t quite yet time for the evening meal, but there were still enough people that Bodhi found someone on their way to the infirmary.

His guide took him up several levels and through what felt like miles of corridor. He paid attention to the route, but that wasn’t enough to keep Bodhi’s mind from worrying itself in circles. What if they were on a different Rebel ship? What if they’d gotten lost and weren’t even with the fleet? What if they’d been hurt during the evacuation? Cassian’s body was still accepting the metal spine and rib reinforcements. Bokan still needed an oxygen tank sometimes.

He tried to tell himself that there wasn’t any reason to believe anything was wrong, but the rest of him pointed out that there wasn’t any reason to believe anything was right, either.

Finally they arrived. Bodhi asked the nurse about his brother, and she gave him a bed number. He walked by himself down a narrow row of curtained-off alcoves, glancing at the numbers embedded into the floor tiles.

Bodhi heard them before he saw them.

“If I did, it would be none of your business,” Cassian was saying, voice flat. Bodhi didn’t know him that well but he’d sounded like that right before yelling at Jyn.

Bodhi slowed, stopped just before Bokan’s number. Their curtain was still drawn.

“It’s not going to do him or you any favors to deny it,” Bokan said. He sounded tired. “But you’re right, it’s not my business. I’m not even sure why I’m trying to help. I barely know you, and Bodhi never had problems finding people to love him.”

Bodhi scrubbed a hand over his face. Of course Bokan couldn’t keep his opinions to himself. Of course he’d just tell Cassian about Bodhi’s attraction.

“That’s an old wound between the two of you, isn’t it,” Cassian said. “People preferring him over you.”

Bodhi’s eyes widened. He stepped forward, opened the curtain, and found Bokan gripping the edge of his bed like he was about to launch himself at Cassian, who was still flat on his back and glaring.

“I’m glad the two of you are feeling well enough to antagonize each other, but please stop,” he said. “Also I’m pretty sure the entire infirmary knows about our personal issues now.”

Cassian looked chagrined and Bokan suppressed a laugh. Bodhi wasn’t happy Bokan’s lungs were damaged - he did still love his brother - but he could also admit to himself that is was rather convenient.

“I’m sorry, Bodhi,” Cassian said. “I’m always irritable when I can’t work.”

“Only then?” Bokan muttered.

Bodhi glared at him.

“Sorry,” Bokan said, and surprisingly, Bodhi believed him.

After everything - Bokan’s disappearance, the years apart, the torture and fighting and nearly dying - Bokan still cared about Bodhi’s feelings.

And Bodhi -

Bokan being alive didn’t erase the grieving he’d done. Saving his life didn’t cancel out the torture. But Bokan had helped Bodhi have fewer scars, and even now was still trying to mend things between them. It made Bodhi want to give him something in return. He couldn’t do anything about the burns or Jedha or Saw, but maybe he could offer some salve for old wounds.

He stepped forward, put a hand on his brother’s uninjured shoulder.

“Near the end, sometimes Ammi thought I was you,” Bodhi said quietly. “She always told me I was her good boy, but she said that you were her star.” He smiled wryly. It didn’t hurt so much, any more. “Even she thought you were the interesting one.”

Bokan’s face went through several expressions very quickly - shock, anger, sadness, joy, longing - and then he looked away. His hand came up to pat Bodhi’s arm awkwardly.

Bodhi squeezed and let go. “Anyway, try not to irritate the staff or your roommate too much.”

“No promises.”

When Bodhi turned to Cassian, it was to see him wiping a hand over his face.

“I, um,” Bodhi faltered. "How's your spine?"

Eyes going a little distant, Cassian gave a hint of a shrug. "The doctors say it's going well."

Bodhi nodded, wondered if he should ask how Cassian was feeling overall, decided that even if he wanted to tell Bodhi he sure as hell didn't want to tell Bokan.

“Jyn says hello. We’re sharing quarters.”

Cassian nodded. “How’s her knee?”

“Good,” Bodhi said.

“How are your burns?” Cassian asked.

“Not too bad. Getting better.”

“Good,” Cassian said.

They both fell into awkward silence.

Bokan snickered.

* * *

Once the panic from evacuating Yavin subsided, time seemed to slow down. It was frustrating, waiting to heal, waiting for Cassian and Bokan to heal. More than anything, Bodhi just wanted someone to tell him what to do.

Jyn had come and gone from her meeting with the recruiter with barely a word to him, shrugging off his questions with clipped answers. She was still recovering from her knee injury, so maybe she just didn’t like the job she’d been assigned to. It didn’t do anything to make Bodhi less nervous.

The recruiter for the Rebellion was not what Bodhi expected. Bureaucracy within the Empire meant that anyone with any sort of power or control over other people’s lives used it to leverage favors for themselves. Bodhi was certain that the meager savings he’d managed to accumulate had been confiscated after his defection. Everything else he owned had been on his shuttle, destroyed with the rest of Jedha. He had nothing else of value to offer, only himself.

With the Rebellion, the recruiter wasn’t looking for a bribe, more concerned with filling holes in their forces left open by the losses on Scarif and Yavin.

Bodhi rattled off his qualifications, mouth moving like a loth cat chasing prey. “…rated to fly both Zeta and Lambda class shuttles, trained on a TIE fighter but didn’t pass combat simulations, minimal training with a blaster pistol, basic mechanics on all Imperial craft plus specialized knowledge for the aforementioned…”

The recruiter cut him off then, setting his datapad down on the desk abruptly. “Mr. Rook - Bodhi - we can definitely use you for transport: troops, supplies, etc. Once we’ve settled on a planetary base we could look into training you on an X-Wing if that’s something you’d be interested in.” He steepled his hands in front of his face, resting his elbows on the desk. “On another note, if you haven’t already debriefed with Intelligence, I’m sure any information you have on the Empire would be of great interest to them. I hear you know Captain Andor, we can certainly arrange for him to be in charge of that if it would make you more comfortable.”

Bodhi would have sworn that his face turned bright red, but the recruiter didn’t make any mention of it, so either he had tact or it wasn’t that noticeable. He still didn’t know how he felt about Cassian, except that suddenly he might have a chance to find out. It was a small thing, time to get to know someone, the simple mundanities of life. Bodhi wanted that more than all the flashfire attraction of a one night stand.

He suddenly realized that he hadn’t answered the recruiter, and he did flush then, stammering over his answer.

“Y-yes, of course. That would be fine.”

The recruiter smiled, made the appropriate notations in his datapad, and the meeting was over. Simple.

Bodhi walked out into the hall, leaned against the wall and breathed. He was, officially now, a Rebel.

* * *

Bokan would never admit it, but aside from the heinous itching, he actually kind of liked his synthskin grafts. They matched his natural skin color and in regular lighting were basically indistinguishable (aside from the seams). So he looked relatively normal most of the time. But, when the light shone at more oblique angles, it would glance off the artificial fibers and give them a metallic undertone. Stylish _and_ intimidating.

After being moved to Home One, it took another week or so before the doctors were satisfied enough with the grafts’ integration to let Bokan leave. The decrease in itching was a minor side benefit compared to the relief of getting out of the damned medbay.

He finished dressing in the drab clothing he’d been given and grinned at his soon-to-be-former roommate.

“Have fun with physio!”

Andor grunted, not looking up from his datapad. Bokan was a little impressed by how he’d gotten someone to slip him Intelligence reports and mission briefings. Talk about a workaholic.

Bokan left and just wandered the ship for a while, getting to know the corridors, which levels accessed the engines and life support systems and thrusters. He’d never been on a big ship before - actually, had never been on a ship in space at all until Andor dragged him onto the U-wing - and it was fascinating.

That held him for a few days, exploring the ship, eating and sleeping enough to keep exploring. He fixed things when he happened upon someone who needed help. Surprisingly, people didn’t mind him drifting from project to project. A lot of them even seemed happy and grateful for his presence. It was weird.

He was fixing a condenser for the water recycling system when someone knocked on the bulkhead behind him.

“Hang on,” he said, tying off the hose he was replacing.

“Are you Bokan Rook?” a woman asked. When he turned around, he saw she was a twi’lek in overalls and a flight helmet who carried herself with an easy confidence. Bokan found himself standing straighter.

“Yeah,” and he wiped off his hands and extended one, because contrary to Bodhi’s opinion, he wasn’t a barbarian.

The woman smiled and shook his hand. “Hera Syndulla.”

The name sounded familiar, but Bokan wasn’t sure when he’d heard it. “What did you need?”

Hera gestured to his tools. “Word is you can fix just about anything, including systems you’ve never seen before.”

Bokan nodded. “So far.”

“I also heard you were on Scarif. Shot up a few Stormtroopers. Took a grenade blast for your brother.”

Bokan shrugged and gestured to the seam scars. “Didn’t get these playing sabacc.”

“I know a few who could have,” Hera said. “Anyway, I have a freighter with a small crew. We lead Phoenix Squadron and do occasional supply runs.”

Bokan whistled. “Must be some freighter.”

Hera smiled, and it was all teeth. “She is. Though occasionally I fly a fighter-bomber instead.”

 _General_ , it finally clicked in Bokan’s memory, the voice over the loudspeaker in the hangar on Yavin Four. General Syndulla.

“If you like doing odd jobs around Home One, ” the General continued, “you can stay put, but we could use a mechanic who’s good in a fight.”

It sounded...well. It sounded dangerous, and like living in tiny quarters with rough people, and like being the flea on the back of the Empire.

It sounded like home.

Bokan said, “These tools aren’t mine.”

“We’ve got our own,” Hera said. She looked him up and down. “You in?”

“Yeah,” Bokan said. “Yeah, I think I am.”

* * *

**One year later**

Bokan shivered, walking down the open ramp into the hangar at Echo base. He reached up and pulled his cloak tighter around his neck. “Which Sith chose this place as a base of operations? I grew up on Jedha, but this is just ridiculous.”

Chopper rolled down the ramp behind him, chirping indignantly.

“‘ _It doesn't bother me…’_ yeah, good for you, freaking asshole.” Bokan grumbled, but he patted the droid on the head as he rolled past. “Go get an oil bath, you bucket of bolts!”

Someone started chuckling, walking up from behind the freighter. “Making friends, I see.” Bokan looked over his shoulder, a grin breaking across his face at the sight of his brother.

“We can't all be the the poster child of the rebellion, Lieutenant Rook, but I get by.” Bokan stood and walked down to wrap Bodhi in a hug.

Bodhi tugged on Bokan's cloak, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “Don't think I won't be stealing this from you.”

“Heh, you can try.”

It had been a year, but Bokan still marveled at the fact that it could be so casual with Bodhi. They didn't get to communicate much, and most of what he was doing wasn't anything that they could talk about over open comms anyway, but he knew that Bodhi had found his place here and he was proud. They didn't need to have the same methods to make a difference.

Bodhi patted him on the back and stepped away. “Are you going to be on base long? Cassian's due back tomorrow sometime.”

“I'm surprised you let him go off without you, Andor tends to find trouble I hear.”

Bodhi snorted. “I can see why you're still single, I don't _let_ him do anything. Besides, I've got K-2 to keep an eye out for me. He's very...protective since we got his memory chip uploaded to the new unit.”

“You mean annoying? Yeah, I've got one of those, too. Keeps life interesting at least.”

Bodhi adjusted the goggles on his head, a nervous tic he'd had since they were kids. “Hard to believe we get to have a chance at that, huh? An interesting life.” He took a breath and twisted his lips into a fair semblance of a smile. “Any life at all?”

Bokan took his own deep breath, felt his damaged lungs ache at the stretch, and looked around. “That's the point of all this, isn't it? To get that chance? Shit, I'm gonna have to _thank_ Andor for saving my ass one of these days.”

He watched his brother's face soften at the mention of his boyfriend and wondered at how he could have stayed away from his family all those years ago. “Come on, you can buy me a caf and we'll catch up. Where's Erso, harassing Dameron still?”

Bodhi laughed, loud and bright. “Caf’s free, loser. I'll let Jyn fill you in on her escapades, she tells it different every time anyway.”

They walked off together, but not before Bokan reached up to pat his ship, his _home_ , fondly. “Yeah, we'll all get dinner. I know Hera wanted to talk to you about the mods she made to her B-wing. As if _I_ wasn't good enough to touch her baby.”

Bodhi's laugh echoed through the whole hangar.

* * *

Cassian shifted the pack slung over his shoulder and groaned as it banged into a bruise on his hip. He could hear Bodhi in his head already, fussing over all his injuries accumulated since they last saw each other. It was nice, in a way, to be cared for. He hadn't had that in a long time. Kay worried about him certainly, but not in quite the same way.

Bodhi seemed like he'd been hoarding all his compassion and caring for years, storing it away while the Empire chipped pieces from him. That might have been what Galen had seen in him, a man holding the best part of himself apart so it wouldn't be corrupted by the slow crush of Imperial occupation.

Once Bodhi had finally accepted that he was free, that no one was waiting around the corner to sell him to the Empire, all that compassion and caring had come rushing back, and Cassian had found himself at the center of that focused energy. What could he do in response but allow it to surround him, fill up all the hollow places inside?

Cassian still bore his scars, still ached where the metal ribs and spine joined with his own bones, but somehow he had managed to find joy and he wouldn't give that up for anything.

Cassian rounded a corner, turning down the hallway to the quarters he shared with Bodhi. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile as he saw Bodhi come out into the hall, talking to someone with his head turned to look back over his shoulder. Cassian slid his pack off his shoulder, letting it drop to the floor and stepped close to pull Bodhi into his arms. Bodhi tensed, then relaxed against Cassian, clearly realizing who had wrapped their arms around him.

Cassian tucked his face against Bodhi's neck, inhaling his familiar scent and pressing into the warmth there. He could feel Bodhi's pulse, thrumming strong and alive, and he pressed a kiss against it, ever thankful for its presence.

From inside the room, someone groaned. “Oh, get a room already, would you?”

Cassian pulled back just far enough to let his voice carry. “I've got one, and you're in it. You might want to get out of there before I give your brother a real hello.”

Bodhi bit his lip, grinning, and really, how could Cassian resist kissing him then? He cupped the hinge of Bodhi's jaw in his hand, angling their mouths together, warm and familiar. He could feel Bodhi's smile, his mouth curved up at the edges. Then he hummed softly into the kiss, melting against Cassian. He never wanted it to end, pressing back in for another and another until Bodhi pulled back with a laugh.

“Welcome home, love.”

* * *

One nice thing about dying for the cause was that it let K-2SO leverage the Alliance’s gratitude into better assignments. Now he did strategic analysis for the whole rebellion instead of things like maintenance, and he went with Cassian on all but the completely solo missions. In addition to his own satisfaction, Kaytoo had not missed the fact that the Cassian was better rested, better fed, and less prone to injuries and mistakes than before.

He made very sure that Draven and the other higher-ups didn’t miss it, either, which at the moment was why he was leaving the Intelligence center before anyone else. Humans could be so touchy sometimes.

«Aww, they kick you out, Legs?»

Kaytoo sighed at the familiar voice. “Hello, Chopper. Yes, they seem upset by my perfectly factual observations.”

The astromech scoffed. «Organics always hate it when you tell it like it is.» He rolled alongside Kaytoo, apparently content to follow him. That was fine with Kaytoo, given that he was mostly just wandering to kill time.

«Well, most organics,» Chopper amended.

Kaytoo chuckled. “You really like Bokan, don’t you.”

«Who said anything about him?» Chopper denied. «I was just allowing for statistical inevitability.»

“Of course,” Kaytoo said. They’d made it to the hangar, and he started a long circuit hugging the wall. “So, what about our bet?”

«Which one?» the mech said, rolling to avoid a loose hydrospanner. «We haven’t come across anything bigger than a corvette in the last three months, and you haven’t done any undercover work in that time, either.»

Kaytoo shook his head. “No, the one about Bokan and Hera.”

«Ha!» Chopper rattled triumphantly. «I win that one. He definitely likes it when she bosses him around, but he knows she’s out of his league.»

“Nothing?” Kaytoo eyed the astromech. “No flirtation? Not even any accidental innuendo?”

«Zip,» Chopper declared. «They’re completely professional. You owe me a shock prod upgrade.»

Kaytoo sighed. “Fine. But in another thirty-six days you’ll owe me three micro-detonators.”

Chopper threw his pincers in the air. «I can’t believe your humans. They already bunk together, it’s not like getting married would be a big step after that. It’s just paperwork.»

The astromech was good at a lot of things, Kaytoo reflected, but it gave him a nice warm feeling to be better at some of the intricacies of human interaction, or at least his humans’ interaction. “It’s not. Not to them.” Which was true.

Also true was that he’d calculated a high likelihood Bodhi would propose to Cassian in the next two years, but he wasn’t going to tell Chopper that.

«Fine, whatever.»

They kept moving along together in relative silence for another few minutes. When their path started curving back around to where they’d entered, Chopper waggled his antenna suggestively.

«Wanna hear about the people Bokan picks up on shore leave?»

* * *

Bodhi sat on top of a crate in the shuttle hangar, dangling his feet over the edge while the crew of the Ghost loaded supplies. Bokan was arguing halfheartedly with Zeb about the best place to store ration bars. He was so glad that Bokan had found his place with the Alliance, as secretive and dangerous as it was.

Maybe if he'd spent more time trying to see Bokan's side of things, back before he'd disappeared with Saw's partisans, maybe they’d have found their way to the Rebellion sooner. That was a pointless train of thought though, considering all the little steps along the way that had brought them to this point. Who would Galen have entrusted his message with? Would they have made it through Saw’s test? Would Hera have ever noticed Bokan to recruit him for her crew? It made his stomach ache to think about it. His mother would have just said, ‘all is as the Force wills it.’

He was just glad that the Force seemed to like him and his brother, at least a little bit.

Bokan knocked on the bottom of the crate, startling Bodhi out of his thoughts.

“We're about loaded here, Bo.” Bokan rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his head back to look up at Bodhi. Bodhi pushed forward and slid off the crate, dropping to his feet in front of Bokan. He brought his hand up to Bokan's face, fingers skimming over the edges of the barely visible synthskin. He wanted to say so much, about how grateful he was for Bokan shielding him, for saving his life, about how proud he felt whenever someone mentioned the crew of the Ghost, awe in their voices. There weren't enough words to tie around all those feelings and he wasn't sure Bokan would accept them anyway. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his brother and said a traditional Jedhan farewell.

“Khuda hafiz, bhai.* Stay warm and come back to us soon.”

Bokan smiled, leaning forward to press his forehead against Bodhi's. His voice was rough when he spoke, though neither of them mentioned it.

“I'll see you soon.” Stepping back and shooting off a half-assed salute, Bokan smiled and winked, his synthskin shimmering in the light of Ghost’s engines powering up. “This place is a lot more lively with two Rooks around!”

He turned and walked onto the ship and Bodhi watched him go. _May the Force be with you, brother._

**Author's Note:**

> *Khuda hafiz, bhai = Goodbye, brother.  
> If this is wrong we'd appreciate correction very much :)
> 
> P.S. Neither of us have seen Season 3 of Rebels so this might be AU for that, too. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You Must Not Miss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13915461) by [rogueshadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/pseuds/rogueshadows)




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